Cryobiosis
by Veldeia
Summary: A mission gone wrong leaves Iron Man stranded in the middle of the Arctic, injured, immobile and without communications. Movieverse, post-movie, with Rhodey as War Machine. Shamelessly cliched and melodramatic angst/hurt/comfort. Gen/friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is me going back to my roots. A very, very traditional hurt/comfort/angst story, the sort I used to write in the Stargate fandom. There are dozens of reasons why this is really completely silly, and I'm sure the technical and medical side make no sense at all regardless of the hours I spent on googling stuff, but anyway. You have been warned. :P

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Shit.

Stupid.

Out of all the stupid situations Tony had found himself in, this one went straight to the top of the list. Not least because it might end up being the last.

This time, he could really only blame himself. He hadn't even saved anyone. It'd been pretty much just a publicity stunt. A pretty blonde scientist had tossed him the idea at some random environmental awareness gala, and he had grabbed it instantly. Fly across the Arctic Ocean in a blizzard and gather data. Sure, he'd do that.

He'd decided to do it because it felt like a good idea. Great PR value, a change of scenery, a chance to field test his latest suit modifications, and on top of that, a real adrenaline rush. Also, he had thought it'd be nice, for once, to do a mission where the only thing he had to fight were the forces of nature. Unfortunately, he had lost. How the press would love that. "Even the mighty genius of Tony Stark had to bow down before the incredible power of Mother Nature." He'd really, really hate to see that in his obituary. Not that he would be able to actually see his obituary, but anyway. Of course, he had every intention of getting out of this situation, so he'd be able to do plenty of other stupid stuff that they could write about when he'd actually buy the farm.

So, it was all his fault. He'd set out into weather so rough that no one in their right minds would've wanted to travel in it, since he wasn't "no one". He was the Invincible Iron Man. Invincible! Yeah, right. Straight from that Monty Python sketch. "I'm invincible! It's just a flesh wound."

He'd set out in the morning from Svalbard, an archipelago belonging to Norway. It was a place so completely in the middle of nowhere that he couldn't understand how anyone could stand living in there. He'd truly enjoyed his flight over the vast expanse of ice. The lack of light of the Polar winter had made the scenery bleak, but he couldn't have cared less about that. Riding the storm in the suit was just plain amazing, pure adrenaline, way beyond any high speed wheels or extreme sports he'd ever tried. Almost better than sex.

After landing at the North Pole, just to be able to say he'd been there, he'd headed towards his target, the north-most point of the US, where Pepper, Rhodey, a group of scientists and a bunch of reporters were waiting for him. He'd never made it there.

Since the weather had been the worst he'd ever seen, he hadn't imagined it could get any worse. It had. He'd had absolutely zero visibility, lots of interference on the radio, and he'd barely been able to connect to any GPS satellites. Then, his right thruster had started failing. Whether it was because of the snow, the cold and the wind, or something else, he still didn't know. Not that it made a whole lot of difference right now.

The wall of ice had appeared as if from nowhere, and he'd had no chance of avoiding it, no time to react. He'd crashed straight into it, and slid all the way down. The only good thing was that he had landed on nice thick ice instead of water.

He'd hit an iceberg, like the fucking Titanic.

Here he was, now, lying on the ice, watching the hypnotic dance of snowflakes on the dim sky above him, the immeasurable power of the blizzard. He felt unreal. It was too peaceful. All that adrenaline, the exhilaration of the flight, the frenzied struggle against the storm, and suddenly, bang! All over. Just the gray haze of the sunless Polar day, the roaring of the wind, the sound of his breathing echoing inside his helmet. Such stillness. Damn, it was anticlimactic.

He also felt far too comfortable. He knew it wouldn't last. Sure, this latest version of his suit had excellent insulation and heating. He'd designed it so it'd protect him in the vacuum of space, so it was more than good enough here. Since he wasn't feeling any chill at all, the heating had somehow come through the fall undamaged. On the other hand, he was sure he hadn't. The moment he'd start moving, he'd probably also start hurting. Maybe he wouldn't try it quite yet.

"Jarvis?"

"Sir?"

"Still there. Great. Nice to know I'm not all alone."

"Technically, you are all alone. I'm just a program."

"Why, thank you. You sure know how to cheer me up. Are you intact?"

"Almost."

"Which parts aren't?"

"As you can see, the HUD is down."

"Master of stating the obvious, as usual. Anything else?"

"Communications are entirely offline, the antennas were damaged in the crash."

Talk about putting all your eggs in one basket. All the antennas had been on the left side of his helmet, the side that had had a close encounter with the ice. Stupid. Bad designing. He'd do it better next time. At least the helmet had done its job protecting his head, considering that he was still conscious.

"What about the rest of the suit?"

"Surface damage to most of the left side, all the way from the helmet to the boots, several flaps out of order, but no actual breaches. Severe damage to the left thruster."

"Shit."

"Indeed, sir."

His right thruster had been faulty to begin with, and now he had lost the left one. He doubted he'd be able to fix them in these circumstances. He needed to take a look to see what the damage was like. To do that, he'd need to try moving.

Feet first. Right foot, OK, check, working. Left foot - ow, damn! Yeah, that didn't feel good. He should've known to expect that. His boot was smashed, it was a logical consequence that his foot was smashed, too. Sprained or broken? Foot, ankle or both? No way to know for sure. Jarvis only had his vitals, he had no means to scan for broken bones. If he had, Tony wouldn't have needed to go through this.

Arms next. Right arm, check, no problem. He'd hit the iceberg not head first, but at an angle, left shoulder first. That meant that moving his left arm would -

"Aahh! Fuck!"

- okay, it was even worse than he'd expected. Bright spots were dancing in front of his eyes, mixing with the snowflakes. Probably a dislocated shoulder. Painful as hell, but at least it wouldn't limit his mobility. He didn't need his arm to be able to move around. Good thing it was the left arm, he did need his right hand if he wanted to fix anything.

"Sir?"

He leaned on his good arm and tried to get up, but the first slight attempt of movement made the left half of his upper body flare up in white-hot agony, so bad that his vision went dark for a few seconds. He groaned and lay still again, gasping, fighting the urge to throw up.

"I would advise against moving."

"Yeah, you're just a few seconds late with that," Tony panted. He felt like he was breathing fire.

So much for fixing anything, let alone going anywhere.

No mobility, no navigation, no communications, and possibly life-threatening injuries.

"I'm screwed."

"That does seem like an appropriate choice of wording, sir."

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Pepper paced to and fro in front of the big windows of the conference room at the Arctic Research Center, staring out. Had there been light, she'd have seen the bright white field of ice beyond the small gathering of buildings, stretching all the way to the horizon. But there was just a dim glow that made everything look gray, even the snow flying around and piling up on the ground. In weather like this, Tony might be able to sneak to the complex so that no one would even notice.

Most of the reporters were in the room with her - without doubt, the biggest concentration of media people that Barrow, Alaska had ever seen. They were like a pack of hyenas, she thought, scavengers, or predators waiting for their prey. Some of the more adventurous ones were actually outside, daring the weather in hopes of catching a glimpse and a good shot of Iron Man completing his mission. They didn't seem to doubt for one second that it wouldn't be a success - or then they just didn't care. If he'd fail, if he'd never reach this place, or if he arrive late or hurt, the better for their scoops. It was awful.

Pepper, herself, was worried to death, not to mention seething at Tony for putting his life at risk for little more than kicks. Of course, officially, this "mission" was all about promoting environmental awareness and Stark Industries' new role in fighting global warming, but she knew well enough that that was completely irrelevant to him. It was just an excuse to do something completely reckless and stupid that he thought was fun.

Maybe she should've been happy instead of worried. At least he wasn't out there getting beaten to death by terrorists. Compared to most of his other stunts in the suit, this was among the least dangerous. Still, flying some two thousand miles in that storm...

When the door opened to reveal a very serious-looking Rhodey, she knew her fears had come true. She had seen that exact look on his face once before: when he had announced they'd lost Tony in Afghanistan.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press," he said subduedly, still standing in the doorway. "As of ten minutes ago, we have lost all contact with Iron Man. It seems likely that something has gone wrong, and we're currently making plans for a rescue mission. We'll keep you informed."

He looked straight at Pepper, eyebrows raised, and turned to leave. She ran after him.

"Who's making plans for a rescue mission?" she asked, as they walked towards the room designated as mission control.

"We are, right now. I'm going to go after him, of course."

"In that weather? Your armor..."

"Doesn't have the latest upgrades, yeah, I know. It's also bulkier and heavier than Tony's. In that weather, I think that's actually an advantage."

"But what happened, exactly? Is he all right?"

"I wish I knew. You'll hear for yourself in a minute."

They reached the door and stepped in. "Mission control" was actually just a small conference room, reserved for their use only. The thing that made it special was the computer Tony had arranged for, one that came with the programs for tracking him, and one particular AI. Pepper and Rhodey sat down at the desk.

"The weather kept getting worse, and he was having trouble with one thruster. Then... Jarvis, play back the last thirty seconds of Tony's radio transmission."

A static crackle came out of the loudspeakers. She could just make out Tony's words as he cursed, "Damn, not steering too well..." There was more crackling for about ten seconds, then a loud and clear "Shit!" and an even louder crash. After that, nothing at all, not even static.

"My God," Pepper said, her breath catching in her throat. "Was that an explosion? Did... Did the thruster blow up?"

"Negative, ma'am," Jarvis answered. "I have analyzed the sound, and the pattern does not match an explosion. Instead, it resembles an impact."

"An impact? With what? A missile? Did he somehow run into enemies out there?"

"I find that highly unlikely. A natural obstacle, such as an iceberg, would be more feasible. However, I can't say for certain. There's so much interference in the data that even this analysis comes with a disturbingly wide margin of error."

"And that's all we've got," Rhodey added. "All we know is that he ran into something, and damaged his communication systems, since we're not getting anything from him anymore. That also means we have no GPS tracking."

She didn't want to think what else he might have damaged, or how badly hurt he might be. "So, he's lost out there?" she asked, unable to keep the fear out of her voice.

"No, not really. Not entirely lost," Rhodey said reassuringly. "We do have the data up to the moment when we lost contact. Even though it was inaccurate because of the weather conditions, we have a rough idea of his location. Jarvis, show it, please?"

An accurate satellite image of the ice-covered Arctic Ocean emerged on the screen. The shoreline where they were at the moment was at the low edge. Some five inches above it, there was a red circle - not an exact point, but a larger area. "Mr. Stark's last known location is two hundred miles to the north from our current position. Mr. Rhodes, I would like to remind you that if he is mobile, his position will have changed," Jarvis spoke up again.

"Well, if he's moving, he may be able to make it back on his own. It really could be just a communications failure, he might be all right, but I wouldn't count on it. He might need help, he might be hurt. So, I'm going to suit up, head to that last known location, and start looking for him."

"The War Machine armor does not have maneuverability equal to that of the latest Iron Man armor, and -" Jarvis began, but Rhodey cut him short.

"I know, I know, all right! Why does everyone keep repeating that to me? Sure, it may not have all the latest gizmos, but that doesn't make it useless. Besides, Tony's the reckless one, not me. I'm not going to try crossing the entire ocean, just a few hundred miles. I'll manage that. I've got to - there's no way I'm going to abandon him out there. If you've got better ideas, feel free to tell me. What would you send out there? A plane? A ship? In that storm?"

Jarvis had no answer to that one, and neither had Pepper.


	2. Chapter 2

So.

Incredibly.

Stupid.

Here he was, still lying on his back, still staring at the endless snowflake ballet. Snow was beginning to pile up on him. The suit's outer surface wasn't all that warm, so the snow only melted slowly. Soon, he would look like an Iron Man snow statue. Iron Snowman. Ha, ha. Everything was still way too peaceful and silent. He felt more alone than ever in his life. There probably wasn't another living soul anywhere within hundreds of miles from him.

He had known moving would hurt, but he had had to try it anyway, hadn't he? Stupid. He had been called self-destructive and masochistic, and Pepper kept telling him that he had a deathwish. None of that was true. Yeah, he had a love-hate-relationship with himself, but he really didn't enjoy pain - he wasn't even all that much into S/M - and he most definitely didn't want to die.

There was a horrible ache radiating from his left shoulder across most of his upper body, a relentless crushing pain, as if he were caught in a machine press. Every breath he took felt worse than the previous one. He'd had plenty of experience with injuries before this, and he could tell that whatever this was, it was bad. Definitely more than a simple dislocation.

"The arc reactor is still functioning normally, isn't it?"

"It is, sir. Power output at one hundred percent."

"Okay. Good. Great." So, that wasn't the problem, and wasn't going to be one, either. He wasn't going to freeze to death, and his life support wasn't going to fail. "Rhodey and Pepper will know something's wrong, and they'll send help," he thought aloud, trying to reassure himself.

"Indeed. Most likely they already have."

"How long until they get here?"

"Assuming it is Mr. Rhodes in his armor, and that our last GPS positioning was more or less correct: ten minutes to don the suit, twenty minutes in flight. At least half an hour altogether."

"Half an hour. That's really not bad. Of course, it might take him a while to find me, without... Hey, wait! I can help with that. Turn on the chest floodlight."

"Good idea, sir."

A bright beam of light shot out from over his arc reactor, reaching into the murky sky. It stood out like a beacon, one single brilliant ray in the middle of this gloom. Even if Tony would be entirely buried in snow, it should lead Rhodey straight to him, if he'd be anywhere in the neighborhood.

He tried to rack his tired brains for any other useful ideas, but came up with nothing at all. He wondered if his injuries were impairing his thinking.

"Well. I guess there's nothing to do but wait, then. Damn, this is going to be boring."

"Sir, there's one thing you should know," Jarvis began, and Tony thought he could hear hesitation in his voice. "Your vitals seem to indicate significant blood loss. As there's no sign of blood anywhere between the suit and your skin, that would suggest you are bleeding internally."

Yeah. He had guessed it was bad, hadn't he?

"Right," he said dumbly, struggling to actually grasp that fact. "How long do I have?"

"There's no way to be certain, since I don't know the exact nature of the trauma. Estimating from your readings so far, I would expect shock within half an hour, and full cardiopulmonary arrest within one hour from this moment."

Death within one hour.

Tony stared at the sky and the snow some more, listening to the ominous rattle in his breathing.

A part of his mind was screaming, "No, that's not true, it can't be," while the rest of him knew all too well that Jarvis was really good at this sort of stuff. Since Tony had designed and written Jarvis's code, his estimates were as accurate as Tony's math - never wrong.

Shock within half an hour. At least half an hour until help got here. He didn't like that equation at all.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Rhodey shivered. The chill went right to his core even through the thick parka he was wearing, and the wind was blowing so hard that he couldn't stand straight. The trip from the research center to the airport had seemed to take forever, and simply crossing the distance from the snowcat to the Stark Jet and up the stairs was another small eternity. Even though Rhodey knew that Tony should be perfectly protected from the weather, the thought of him stuck out there in the middle of this squall was still, well, chilling. Besides, his heating system might've been damaged in the collision. That idea made Rhodey feel even colder, to the pit of his stomach.

Once he reached the door, he had to pull off his mitten, so he could press his thumb on the fingerprint scanner. Definitely not very practical in these circumstances. Of course, practicality had never been Tony's forte, he had always set flair and style above common sense. The door slid open and he stepped inside, cradling his hand. It felt half-frozen from just those few seconds of exposure.

From the outside, the Stark Jet looked just the same as before, an extravagant private plane. The inside was a whole different story. Tony had refitted half of it as a mobile workshop, filled with the tools and technology required for suit repairs, as well as a three-armed robot to help with dressing and undressing the suits. Naturally, the whole thing was powered by a miniature arc reactor. Rhodey didn't understand half of the stuff that Tony had in here, he only knew a few basic things, but that was all he needed. Besides, Jarvis was here, too, always ready to help.

He opened the locker designated as his, and changed into his undersuit. A brightly colored promo picture of him and Tony in their suits stared at him from the wall, probably placed there by Pepper. It felt strange to be doing this alone. He had only had the War Machine armor for a little over two months, and almost every time he'd used it, he had done so with Iron Man by his side. Yeah, he was becoming Tony's sidekick, even more than before. Or his wingman - he preferred that term himself.

He walked to the awaiting robot, and stepped on the platform. "War Machine protocol, voice recognition: James Rhodes."

Tony had designed the suits so that it was possible to dress them manually, on one's own, but the process was far faster with help. Rhodey needed that speed - if Tony was hurt, or his arc reactor was damaged, or his suit's heating offline, time would be of the essence. The robotic arms picked the silver-black parts from their rack, and clicked them into place with precision that was far beyond what human hands could do. The helmet came last, finishing his transformation from Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes of the U.S. Air Force into War Machine, a superhero, and a veritable flying tank. God, he loved this armor. Now that he had one of his own, he could perfectly understand how Tony was so addicted to his.

Figuring that it was best to prepare for the worst, Rhodey had the robot attach an advanced first aid kit to the back of his suit, where he'd usually carry extra weaponry. All geared up, he got off the platform, clanked his way across the plane to the door, and stepped outside. Walking in his suit was really cumbersome, since it was even heavier than Tony's, but Rhodey didn't mind that. He had other advantages. He was still more than a bit amazed that Tony had given him more guns than what the Iron Man suit had, and he really appreciated the gesture.

In the suit, he had no trouble standing upright regardless of the wind. He gazed at the surroundings with the strangely over-accurate sight provided by the HUD. As there wasn't nearly enough visible light to see properly, the suit adjusted and switched to night vision. The few humans who were outside despite the weather stood up clearly thanks to the thermal imaging. It should reveal Tony pretty easily, too, as soon as Rhodey got near enough to him.

"Jarvis, patch me through to Pepper."

She answered almost instantly. "Yes, Rhodey?"

"I'm all set and about to take off."

"Good! The reporters were hoping you could show up and say a few words, but -"

"Absolutely not, there's no time for that."

"Yes, I know, I was just about to tell you that I already told them so."

"All right."

"I'm at mission control with Jarvis now, we'll be monitoring your progress. Rhodey, please be careful. And bring him back."

Listening to her tense voice and watching her anxious face at one corner of the HUD, he knew they were both equally worried and equally mad at Tony. Sometimes he felt like they were his parents instead of his friends, doing their best to make sure he'd have enough sleep and rest, and to keep him from doing anything completely stupid. Too bad he was such a hyperactive kid that they couldn't always succeed, no matter how hard they tried.

"I'll do my best. War Machine out."

He ignited his thrusters, and rose into the gray sky. The flight conditions were dismal. He would never have taken a plane into such weather. Luckily, the suit was far better than any plane he'd ever flown, and felt surprisingly steady regardless of the gale. Getting above the storm clouds was a struggle, but in the end, he emerged in clearer skies. This was something Tony hadn't been able to do, at first because he had needed to fly low because of his mission, and then because the weather had simply gotten too bad out there.

The GPS showed up on the screen, announcing that it had been able to contact a sufficient amount of satellites for accurate positioning. At least Rhodey knew where he was, himself. He had Jarvis enter Tony's last known coordinates, and set out in that direction at supersonic speed.


	3. Chapter 3

Even the faint glow that was the local equivalent of daylight had now disappeared. It would've been completely dark if not for the light of the suit's chest beam, which rose to the sky like a shining golden pillar. Thanks to it, Tony could still see the snowflakes.

He felt like he was caught in some sort of a sensory deprivation experiment. The same visuals all the time, and no sounds except for the wind and his own labored breathing. Of course, there was Jarvis, but Tony felt too tired and almost too out of breath for proper conversation. He had Jarvis switch him on extra oxygen, to make getting air slightly easier, though he knew it would only be a temporary relief.

He still couldn't believe he was dying. He wasn't going to die out here. That was just unacceptable. Unthinkable. It couldn't happen. No way. Rhodey would find him. He would. He had to be near already. How long had it been?

"Are we there yet?"

"It has only been ten minutes since you first inquired Mr. Rhodes's estimated time of arrival."

"Impossible."

"Sir, I am incapable of lying to you, and my clock is perfectly accurate."

"I know. Damn, I could use some entertainment."

"Would you like me to play some music, sir?"

Of course! What a complete idiot he had been, again. Even though Jarvis couldn't connect to the internet or Tony's server, he still had a wide collection of music with him in the suit. But what would he listen to? After all, it might be the last thing he'd ever hear. Should he pick something melodramatic? Funeral music? Or on the contrary, something encouraging? "I Will Survive?" No, now he knew. He'd hit an iceberg. "My Heart Will Go On." That would be almost literally true with him. Yuck. The thought of dying with Celine Dion ringing in his ears... He didn't know whether to cry or laugh at that one.

In the end, he found himself completely unable to decide. That wasn't normal. He always knew what he wanted. He was also starting to feel slightly chilled.

"Shall I use shuffle?" Jarvis suggested, waiting for Tony's answer.

"Jarvis, is the heating still working all right?"

There was a pause before Jarvis replied, as he took the time to double-check all systems. "There is nothing wrong with the suit, sir," he said slowly, with extra weight on the word "suit".

Jarvis didn't need to elaborate, Tony could figure it out himself. Nothing wrong with the suit. Everything wrong with him.

"Within half an hour, you said. It's been ten minutes. This is too fast."

"Actually, sir, ten minutes is within half an hour. Nevertheless, I must admit that my first estimations may have been overly optimistic."

"There's got to be something I can do!" he exclaimed forcefully, and regretted it instantly. It set him coughing, which felt like someone was poking holes in his shoulder with a power drill. He could taste blood.

Again, Jarvis was silent for a while. Tony could almost hear his CPU working hard on that request. He was glad he had the AI as backup, because it seemed he was rapidly losing the ability to think straight himself.

"Sir, I do have an idea, but it is a desperate one, and highly uncomfortable."

"Desperate's my middle name," Tony rasped. "Shoot."

"Have you heard of a medical treatment method called therapeutic hypothermia?"

"You want to cryo-freeze me?"

"Most definitely not, sir. Actually allowing tissue to freeze would lead to irreparable damage. Instead, I suggest we turn off the suit's heating, and lower your body temperature to a level that could be considered harmful."

"You want me to die faster?" Maybe Tony was being somewhat slow on the uptake, but he had major trouble trying to understand what Jarvis's mad master plan was.

"It would delay the onset of brain damage if the worst comes to pass. You would have better chances of surviving."

"Can't we just wait and see whether I make it, and freeze me if I don't?"

"That would decrease your odds, since the prognosis is better if hypothermia is the actual cause of clinical death. Lowering your temperature will take time. The sooner we begin, the less blood you will have lost, and the more likely the rescuers will be able to resuscitate you."

"Clinical death... Jarvis!" The conversation had become so disturbing that Tony was starting to have serious trouble catching his breath. "Are you suggesting... You really do want to kill me? Make me so cold that my heart stops? That's crazy!"

"I'm afraid it'll happen within the hour, no matter what we do, either because of bleeding and shock, or as a consequence of respiratory arrest. As I just said, it is better if it's caused by cold instead."

"So, I get to pick between freezing, suffocating and bleeding to death. This really sucks."

"I did say it was desperate."

"I'm not a machine you can just turn off and on again."

"I am well aware of that, sir."

His head was swimming. Did this really make sense? He didn't think it did. Was Jarvis out of his mind? He couldn't be, that was technically impossible. It was far more likely that Tony was.

How could he make a life-and-death decision when he couldn't even decide what music to listen to?

"Give me numbers."

"The basic fact is that in normal circumstances, a human being will suffer irreversible brain damage in three minutes after the onset of cardiac arrest. However, people who have been clinically dead with hypothermia have been successfully revived over an hour later."

"How about the scenarios without any dying?"

"Sir, it has only been fifteen minutes since my initial assessment, and you are already beginning to show symptoms of shock. Even if Mr. Rhodes should arrive before your vital functions cease, he would still need to transport you to medical facilities, which will take at least another half an hour. It is highly unlikely that you will last that long."

Right, and Tony should have understood that earlier. He had only considered the future up to the point when help got here, he hadn't even begun to think what would happen later on.

"Without induced hypothermia, I estimate your chances of surviving would be less than five percent. With it, presuming that the rescuers will know what to do - which they will, once I am able to inform them of the situation - the chances are raised to twenty-two percent."

The odds sucked, but that did make it sound like an easy choice. Twenty-two was way better than less than five. Still, this was insane.

He'd just have to trust Jarvis. He had programmed Jarvis. Trusting Jarvis was like trusting himself. He could do that.

"Okay," he said, even though it scared the hell out of him.

"There is one thing you need to do before we begin, sir. When you'll start growing colder, your thought processes will be affected. It will also be very uncomfortable. You may not wish to continue, and if you'll insist, I will be unable to disobey your direct orders."

Shit. Jarvis was right, of course. It was entirely possible Tony would try to stop it. He had to prevent that. There was one fast and easy way to do it.

He swallowed nervously, and said the words. "Jarvis. Voice recognition: Tony Stark, system administrator. Remove all privileges from Tony Stark. From this moment on, no commands from the specified user will be binding."

There. He had now signed his own death warrant. "All right. Let's do it."

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Pepper wrapped her fingers tightly around the steaming mug of tea. It did nothing to banish the terrible chill that had settled deep within her, like a cold hand gripping her heart. And she was the one sitting inside behind a computer screen, in perfect safety and comfortable warmth.

The screen in front of her showed the map with the red circle of Tony's assumed position, and a bright blue spot that marked where Rhodey was. So far, everything had been all right, Rhodey had had no trouble with his armor. During the half an hour that had passed so far, he had approached the target steadily, and now, the two markings finally converged.

"All right, I'm here," Rhodey announced on the radio. "Dropping altitude to get a better look."

She set the mug on the table. The thought of actually drinking the tea made her nauseous. She crossed her arms, shivering slightly. She was no longer worrying just for Tony, but for Rhodey, too. So far, he hadn't complained, but surely it couldn't be easy to fly in weather like that. It just wasn't like him to complain. He constantly kept astounding her by how much crap he could take from Tony with barely a word of objection. She was glad he was around, so that she didn't need to take all of it by herself. Tony was such a complete jerk. And now he was out there and might be hurt. If he wasn't, she was so going to kill him for doing this to them.

"I swear, the next time he voluntarily tries to do something dangerous just for the thrill of it, I'm going to knock him out and handcuff him," she said out loud.

"Yeah, I promise I'll help," Rhodey replied.

"As will I," Jarvis added. Pepper actually found her mouth twisting to a crooked smile at that. With friends like them, no wonder Tony wasn't afraid of his enemies.

"No sign of him at the center of the area," Rhodey announced, quickly erasing the smirk from her lips. "I'm going to proceed in a widening spiral from here."

"At your current speed, covering the entire area will take no more than fifteen minutes," Jarvis informed them.

"What if he's not there?" Pepper asked softly.

"He'll be here. He's got to be."

But fifteen minutes passed, and there was still no sign of him, no sign of anything but snow and ice.

"All right, I'm going to continue in a spiral wider than the originally marked area. It's perfectly possible that the GPS might've been off, and he may have moved," Rhodey said.

"Sir, I would like to note that the snow is getting inside your flaps, and there is ice forming on your suit. Staying for much longer might seriously impede your steering," Jarvis chimed in. The voice came through the radio, meaning that it was the instance of Jarvis uploaded into his suit who was speaking.

"It's nothing, Jarvis. I can't give up yet."

"Rhodey..." Pepper began, not quite knowing herself what she wanted to say. She didn't want anything bad to happen to Rhodey, but if Tony was injured, he was probably Tony's only hope.

"Pepper, believe me, I've no intention of sacrificing my life for him or anything like that. I'm not that much of a martyr. I'll stay for another fifteen minutes. That sound reasonable, Jarvis?"

"Within acceptable limits, sir," the Jarvis at Rhodey's end answered.

Five minutes went by, then ten, and still, nothing. Pepper wrapped her hands around the mug again, trying to draw some warmth from the china, but it was no good. The untouched drink was barely lukewarm now.

"The time is up," Jarvis announced.

"Just a few more minutes..." Rhodey insisted.

Pepper stared at the big clock on the wall. A minute. Two minutes.

"Hey, look!" Rhodey exclaimed eagerly, all of a sudden. He took Pepper so completely by surprise that she actually dropped the mug on her lap, spilling tepid tea all over her clothes.

"Jarvis, what's that, over there?" he asked.

"A high-intensity beam of light, coming from the ground. The wavelength and shape are a perfect match to those of Iron Man's chest beam."

Feeling too relieved to speak, Pepper whispered a soundless "Yes!" - exactly in time with Rhodey's loud whoop of joy.


	4. Chapter 4

Cold.

So cold.

Jarvis had insisted that the faster, the better. The suit was so well insulated that even without the heating, Tony wouldn't have gotten cold very quickly, and the snow covering him actually acted as additional insulation. So, Jarvis had not only turned off the heat, but also turned on the very efficient cooling, which Tony had installed in case he'd have to deal with dangerously warm conditions or fire. In addition to making him colder, it also made the snow melt, thanks to the heat conducted out of the suit. He could never have imagined he'd end up using the cooling like this.

He had never been this cold in his entire life. He had always preferred places with a nice, warm climate. He was shivering uncontrollably, his teeth chattering so hard it sounded like someone touch typing at top speed. The cold was intense enough to take his thoughts off everything else that was wrong with him. And the thing was, they had only just gotten started.

"H-h-how long's this going to t-take?" Tony stuttered.

"I'm afraid it's impossible to predict, there are far too many variables. However, I would expect you to lose consciousness fairly soon."

"Fairly soon?"

"Within half an hour."

"Good. I g-guess that's good."

Except that it really wasn't good. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to get out of this personal hell he was stuck in, but he also didn't want it to end. Because once he lost consciousness, the chances were that he would never wake up again, and he was scared, so damn scared.

Actually, maybe there was something he wanted even more than simple escape. He wanted to have someone here with him. Anyone would be better than no one at all, but if he could choose, it would be Rhodey or Pepper. Preferably both. His best friend and his... what should he call her? She was far more than just his assistant. His girl Friday. She was his best friend, too. Pepper and Rhodey. His co-pilot and his wingman.

"Shouldn't Rhodey be here by now?"

"According to my earlier estimations, yes, but they may have been off the mark for may reasons."

Sure, Tony did have Jarvis, but Jarvis couldn't grab his hand and tell him that everything would be all right. If he told Jarvis he was scared, Jarvis would say that it was a natural reaction to the circumstances and that it would pass, or something like that, and it wouldn't help at all.

Cold.

So freezing cold.

Jesus fucking Christ, it was cold.

Snow was dancing above him. All those snowflakes, no two of them exactly alike. Similar, yet different. Like people. They were little more than a gray blur in the light of his chest beam. Maybe he was only imagining it, but it seemed as if they were slowing down, the storm finally beginning to relent.

He was breathing in shallow, shuddering gasps. He welcomed the burning pain that radiated from around his shoulder with each movement of his chest. At least it was something else than cold.

"Jarvis... I... I don't think I c-can do this."

"You have no choice. I've been commanded to see the process through, and you no longer have the authorization to make me stop."

"I don't?"

That was weird. Why was he locked out? It made no sense. He wasn't be supposed to be locked out, was he? Was there a problem with Jarvis? Jarvis's encasing should protect him perfectly from pretty much everything, but could the cold be getting to him, too? What could Tony do about it? He could barely think anymore. Too cold.

"Jarvis, I think I'm d-d-dying here! Override -"

"Sir, I'm sorry, but you can't do that."

He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

His mind was starting to do the "watch your life flash before your eyes" -thing, tossing him with more-or-less random memories, although it wasn't his entire life, it was only the passing year. The single year of his life that he was actually proud of.

Afghanistan. The arc reactor. Yinsen.

He hadn't wasted it, had he?

Escape. Rhodey. Home. Pepper. The suit. Stane.

He had done his best. He really had.

The Avenger Initiative. War Machine.

Had he done enough, had he made a difference? He had only saved a handful of lives, was it anything compared to all the lives his weapons had taken?

And did it really matter?

Now that he thought about it, did any of this really matter? Why was he making such a fuss? Things would be all right or they wouldn't. Whatever would happen, would happen. He would live or he would die. The world would go on.

He absently noted he wasn't shivering anymore, and wasn't even feeling cold. Instead, he felt almost too warm. He felt like he wanted to get out of the suit. He tried to lift his hand so he could get his mask open, but he found he couldn't. Either the suit was locked, or he simply had no strength left.

"Jarvis..."

"Here for you, as always, sir."

"It's too warm in here." His voice came through slurred, as if he were drunk. Maybe it was because his lips were completely numb and barely moving.

"That's merely an illusion created by the rapidly worsening hypothermia. You are not warm. Instead, you are very cold. Your temperature is at 89.5 degrees Fahrenheit, and falling."

"Is that so."

So, maybe he was cold. That was supposed to be a good thing. He couldn't remember why, anymore. It didn't matter.

He stared at the snowflakes whirling above him in the dark sky.

God, he was tired.

Had he said that aloud?

"It's all right, sir. You can go to sleep."

He closed his eyes and let go.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Maybe Rhodey had been starting to get a bit worried about his own situation a moment ago, but now it was all gone. All he felt was an overwhelming, paradoxical combination of relief and anxiety for Tony. The bright light he was approaching had to be Tony, there was no doubt about that, but what would Rhodey find once he got there? It was far too early to start throwing parties.

"I've got visual," he told Pepper over the radio.

Iron Man was lying on the ground at the foot of a tall iceberg. It was clear enough that that was what he had run into. He had been flying low in the blizzard to get the data, so it was no wonder, really. Now, the storm wasn't quite so bad anymore, the worst of it having moved further towards the north.

Rhodey landed next to Tony, who was lying on his back, the light on his chest pointing directly upwards. He wasn't moving, wasn't showing any sign of being conscious or aware of Rhodey's arrival. The suit looked pretty banged up, especially the left shoulder, which was clearly deformed, but none of the damage looked serious. Oddly enough, there was no snow on the suit. Instead, there were small glimmering patches of clear ice, and even some liquid water. Rhodey knelt by Tony's side and shook him gently. He got no response.

"Rhodey? What's going on over there? Is he all right?" Pepper asked.

"I don't know yet. I'll let you know when I've got something," Rhodey answered, and cut the radio connection for the time being.

It took some fumbling with the suit's clumsy gloves, but finally, Rhodey managed to open the latch in his side and dig out the emergency cable. He attached it to the port in Tony's suit.

"Connecting to Iron Man's suit computer," Jarvis said, and a status bar appeared on the HUD to show the progress. It wouldn't take more than a few seconds.

"Tony? Speak to me, man. Say something."

Had Tony been conscious and able to talk, he could've done so over the line. He didn't. Rhodey was starting to feel chilled, though whether any of it was physical, he couldn't tell.

"Connection established."

"And?"

"Mr. Stark has been in cardiac arrest for eight minutes. He is also severely hypothermic."

In cardiac arrest - as in, dead. And only for eight minutes! "No! No, no, that can't be!" If only Rhodey had been a bit faster, if he had looked in the right direction earlier...

"Sir, there is more to it than that," Jarvis said, and somehow Rhodey imagined he could hear hope in that emotionless voice. "There is nothing wrong with his suit's temperature regulation. This was a deliberate choice made by him and the instance of me in his suit. He is seriously injured, and they calculated that by bringing down his body temperature, they would increase his odds of survival. There is a saying in medicine that a person is not dead until they are warm and dead."

"Huh? Are we talking like cryonics or something?"

"Not quite, although the basic idea is somewhat similar. As it is, the best course of action would be to take him to proper medical care as fast as possible."

"Right. Okay."

It sounded unbelievable, but then again, this was Tony they were talking about. If there was one person on the planet who might try something as crazy as this, it was Tony.

Extra careful of Tony's injured side, Rhodey maneuvered his arms around Tony and lifted him off the ground. It was a good thing the War Machine armor was designed to carry heavy weaponry. Since he had left all the extra weapons modules at base, carrying Tony in the Iron Man suit wasn't an impossible task, although it would slow him down considerably. Rhodey locked his suit's arms in place, so that there'd be no risk of him dropping his valuable load. It would be tricky flying like this, his balance off and his palm flight stabilizers stuck at awkward angles. Tricky, but not impossible. Flying was what he did best - he was actually far better at it than Tony. He'd manage.

With Tony in his arms like some huge broken toy robot, he took off, heading high above the storm clouds.

"Point me home, Jarvis," he said.

"Sir, that may not be a prudent direction to choose."

"Huh? Why not?

"Mr. Stark requires intensive care, and most likely also surgery. While there is a hospital in Barrow, it's a small one. It is clearly inadequate for such a case. They would medevac him elsewhere as soon as possible."

"Well, what would you suggest, then?"

"According to the data I have, the nearest hospital with sufficient facilities is in Fairbanks."

"Fairbanks? That's not exactly near, is it?"

"At your top speed in the current circumstances, approximately one hour."

"But Tony's... He hasn't got one hour!"

"Actually, sir, at a body temperature as low as this, it's possible that resuscitating him will be successful even an hour later. Also, if you take him to Barrow first, the delay in getting him to proper care will only be longer."

"All right. Fairbanks it is."

He checked the GPS and hit the pedal. He wouldn't be able to go supersonic while carrying Tony, but he sure wasn't going to hold anything back. He'd still get a good 600 miles per hour.

"Rhodey? Tony? Are you there?" Pepper called out over the radio.

"Pepper, I've got him. He's..." Rhodey hadn't told her anything yet, and now that it came to it, he couldn't bring himself to say the words. Tony wasn't necessarily dead. Jarvis had said he might make it. "He's out cold, and not doing well, but I'm sure he's going to be all right."


	5. Chapter 5

Pepper stared at the screen, where the dot signifying Rhodey and Tony had taken a course that strayed away from her location. Rhodey had told her that he was taking Tony to Fairbanks, to a bigger, better hospital. He still hadn't told her what was wrong with Tony. That was both worrisome and annoying. She wasn't going to have it.

"Jarvis, you can exchange data with your counterpart in the War Machine armor, right?"

"Affirmative."

"Then tell me what's going on over there. Why's Rhodey being so vague?"

"He suspects the news would disturb you greatly," Jarvis answered instantly, making it clear that he already knew what the situation was.

"That's stupid of him. I'll have to hear it sooner or later anyway. And the only thing I can think of that could make him act like that, the only news so bad that he'd refuse to tell me or even lie..." It really didn't take a genius to figure that out. "Tony's gone, isn't he?"

"Mr. Stark is clinically dead at the moment."

She gasped, feeling like she had just fallen into the Arctic Ocean. Even though she had already guessed as much, it still hurt to hear it confirmed like that. Sometimes she just hated it how easily she could read both Tony and Rhodey. Still, there was one thing she couldn't understand.

"But if he really is d... dead... Then why on Earth is Rhodey dragging him to a hospital halfway across Alaska?"

"There is reason to believe that he may yet be revived."

"There is? Really? Honestly?"

"Yes, ma'am."

He might not be gone, after all. There was still hope. She clung to that lifeline, struggling to pull herself up from the icy cold depths.

She really, really needed to be where Tony and Rhodey were.

She stood up. The long-forgotten mug of tea fell from her lap to the floor and shattered, like some overly telling bad omen, pointing out how fragile her hope was. She stared angrily at the fragments for a beat, and hurried out of the room.

As she walked, she dug her Blackberry from her purse and called the Stark Jet's pilot. He was currently somewhere in town, ready to take them home once Iron Man had finished his mission. The phone rang several times before the pilot answered.

"Yeah?"

"This is Pepper Potts. We're leaving town as soon as possible. Whatever you're doing right now, drop it."

"But I was supposed to have the day off -"

"You're not drunk, are you?"

"No, ma'am, but -"

"Unless you're physically incapable of doing your job, we're going."

"But the weather -"

"The weather's getting better. Now, mister, drag your ass to the airport right away. I'll meet you there."

"Very well, Miss Potts," the pilot said sheepishly. She almost felt sorry for him.

There was still one thing she needed to do before she left. She walked to the conference room and stopped, her hand on the doorknob. She didn't think she could do it - face that army of reporters and tell them that Tony was... what? That he was dead, but he was going to get better? She couldn't!

She turned on her heel and walked to the bathroom. She stared at her reflection in the mirror: tea-stained clothes, tear-streaked face. She hadn't even realized she was crying. She needed to pull herself together. This had already went from a great media event to a PR nightmare, and she was the only one in a position to try and do any damage control. The reporters had been in the dark ever since Rhodey had left. She'd have to throw those jackals at least a small bone to pick.

Luckily, her trousers were a dark gray, so once she had buttoned her matching blazer over her ice-blue shirt, the tea stains were barely noticeable. She splashed cold water on her face, fixed her make-up, and tightened her updo. There. She couldn't waste any more time.

She marched back to the conference room, determined, forcing her mind to stay blank. As soon as she opened the door, she was hit by a loud hubbub of questions. There were countless pairs of anxious eyes on her, as well as dozens of cameras, and no less than three TV-cameras.

The crowd fell silent as she opened her mouth to speak. "Mr. Stark has been found. His condition is so far unknown to me." That wasn't a big lie. It would've been, if she hadn't asked Jarvis. "He is being transported to medical facilities elsewhere, and both I and Mr. Rhodes will be accompanying him. We'll keep the media informed, but the fact is, there will be no official representation of Stark Industries or Iron Man left in this town. It means that, ladies and gentlemen, this party is over. Goodbye."

She escaped the room, slamming the door after her almost impolitely hard to cover the racket that erupted as soon as her message had sunk in. Way to go, Potts. Not exactly the best speech she could've given. Calling that "damage control" would be hugely exaggerated. Well, what was done, was done. At least she had said something. Nothing left to keep her here, now.

She sprinted towards the commissary. She needed to find someone who could take her to the airport. How she wished Happy were here! But he had escorted Tony to Svalbard, and was probably on his way back just now. She really could've used his company - he was soothingly down-to-earth and had more common sense than Tony and Rhodey put together. Not that she would've doubted for one second that she'd have any trouble getting a lift. If she couldn't find a volunteer, she'd drag someone out by the ear. The poor locals probably wouldn't know what had hit them.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

No matter what Jarvis had said, Rhodey had the horrible feeling he was a hearse driver transporting a red-and-gold coffin.

"Jarvis, how realistic is it to hope that he's going to make it?"

"Originally, my counterpart in his suit estimated his chances at twenty-two percent, but at the moment, I consider that somewhat optimistic. That number was based on incorrect facts. For example, finding him took us twice the assumed time."

"Gee, thanks. Like I wasn't feeling guilty enough to begin with."

"There is nothing you could have done differently. The GPS coordinates we used were over fifty miles off the mark."

"Yeah, whatever. So, what's your current estimation?"

"Twelve point five percent."

Rhodey sighed, and didn't say anything to that. At times like these, it became painfully obvious that as smart as Jarvis might be, he was still just an emotionless program. Rhodey had sought reassurance, and had gotten the exact opposite. Sure, about one chance out of eight was better than one out of a million, but it was a very slim hope nevertheless.

He wished he could talk to Pepper, but he didn't dare contact her. He had lied to her, and now he didn't know what to say to her when they spoke again. Knowing Pepper, she had probably already guessed that this was a worst case scenario, and he had no idea how she'd react.

Lacking anyone he'd really be able to talk to, Rhodey spent most of the hour-long flight in silence. Around halfway there, he contacted the hospital to give them an advance warning. He gladly handed the conversation over to Jarvis when it came to explaining the details of what had happened. The hospital people were quite impressed when Jarvis actually sent them all the medical data on Tony from the moment he'd been injured to his current, depressing readings.

Finally, Rhodey reached the hospital, and found his way to the waiting emergency team. He set Tony on a gurney as gently as a metal-clad man carrying another possibly could, and helped them get Tony out of his suit.

There was the typical look of amazement and shock on the medics' faces as they first set eyes on the arc reactor. Rhodey felt shocked as well, but for an entirely different reason. Tony looked beyond pale, downright nonhuman. Against his dark hair, his face stood out completely white, like some antique mask made of marble. The only touches of color were the faint blue of his lips and the bruises on his cheek and forehead. Rhodey had seen more corpses than he cared to count, and each and every one of them had looked more alive than Tony did at the moment.

After Rhodey had explained the basic facts about the arc reactor, the medics nodded, ushered him out of the way and got to work. A nurse lead him to a waiting area.

He stood in a corner, still in his suit. He thought he was like one of those decorative suits of armor one might find in a medieval castle. Not just because he looked like one, but because of how he felt: hollow, nothing but an empty shell.

He sat down on the floor. Things were out of his hands now. There was nothing more he could do for Tony. All he could do was wait and try not to think too much, because thinking was so damn painful.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps dragged him out of his stupor. Even though it came from flats instead of heels, he could easily recognize Pepper's way of walking.

"Rhodey! How could you lie to me like that? It was about the stupidest, most insensitive thing you could possibly have done!"

Rhodey could imagine that if anyone saw them, the sight must've been amusing. A slender redhead, fuming with anger, standing tall and fierce in front of a massive, menacing silver-and-black figure, who was down on the floor and actually cowering in fear.

"Pepper, I'm sorry, I -"

"Will you at least face me properly when you're trying to apologize?"

With hands that felt every bit as leaden as they looked, Rhodey took off his helmet. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "I'm sorry, Pepper, I really am. I wasn't lying to you as much as I was lying to myself," he said, his throat so tight he could barely speak. "I just couldn't say it aloud, didn't want to admit the truth. But he really was completely lifeless, I can't deny that. As far as I know, he still is."

As she listened to his apology, the anger melted off her face and her shoulders sagged. "Oh, Rhodey," she said, the voice that had been so ferocious just a minute ago now broken. "Tony's... He's really..." She shook her head.

She sat on his metal-covered lap and put her arms around him, and he lay his head on her shoulder, and they clung to each other like two people caught in the middle of a blizzard.


	6. Chapter 6

Pepper always forgave them too easily, both of them. Tony more often, but that was just because Tony did stupid things far more often than Rhodey. "Tony did" - but that should be "Tony had done", now, shouldn't it?

She just couldn't be mad at Rhodey, not at a time like this. When he said he was sorry, the raw grief in his voice shattered the protective shell she had built of hope and anger. He had seen Tony, and he had no hope. Tony really was dead, had been dead for over an hour, and it was nothing but fantasy to expect him to return to life.

They held on to each other for a long time, she crying in earnest, he blinking and sniffling in a manner that told her he wasn't far from tears, either. There was nothing awkward about it. They had already been to hell and back again because of Tony, more than once before. It was funny, she thought, how simply knowing Tony had made the two of them this close. Sure, they had some similarities in character: they were both very punctual and systematic, and decent and civil. Actually, in terms of personality, they had more in common than either of them had with Tony. Still, she doubted they would ever have become friends if it wasn't for their shared love, worry and irritation towards him.

Finally, she let go, and helped Rhodey out of his armor. They sat down on a sofa, staring at the gray wall. The silence was perfect except for the soft click of the clock once every minute. Pepper thought she should say something, but she couldn't think of anything. What was there to say? The minutes passed, became hours, went on and on, and they waited.

It was past midnight. Rhodey rested the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Pepper wondered if he had gone to sleep. Probably not. She, for one, would definitely not be able to sleep, and she didn't think he would, either.

She found herself wondering what would happen next. A morbidly practical part of her mind took over, and began drafting a to-do-list. They would have to tell the media, and notify the board, and S.H.I.E.L.D. She'd have to call Happy, and Tony's lawyer... The long list was enough to occupy her mind for a good part of the night. As gruesome as it was, it was also soothing to concentrate on something as normal as organizing things. It didn't exactly make her feel better, but more distant from everything.

They were well into the small hours, and Pepper was pondering the exact wording of their press release - "died" was too blunt, "deceased" made her think of war, "passed away" sounded like they were talking about an old man who had died in his sleep - when a woman in a lab coat approached them.

She took in the pieces of War Machine armor on the floor with raised eyebrows, and turned to face Pepper and Rhodey. "I take it that you're Mr. Stark's next of kin?"

"The closest thing he has," Pepper replied.

"I'm Doctor Brown, his attending. I'm glad to inform you that we've successfully rewarmed him and restored his circulation. The internal bleeding from lacerations to his left lung and subclavian artery is also under control."

Pepper grabbed Rhodey's shoulder and looked from the doctor to him, seeking reassurance that she wasn't just imagining this, that he was seeing it too.

"He's not dead?" Rhodey said, sounding as disbelieving as Pepper felt.

Doctor Brown nodded, her face professionally emotionless. "In other words, he's not dead. His life is no longer in immediate danger, although his condition is serious. He's going to need multiple operations to repair the damage around his left shoulder, including fractures of the scapula, the clavicle, and the first three ribs, and -"

"Can we see him?" Pepper interrupted. She really couldn't have cared less about the medical specifics at the moment.

"Yes, but he's still unconscious. We don't know yet whether the prolonged circulatory arrest caused brain damage. The hypothermia did protect him from the worst of it - without it, it would never have been possible to resuscitate him. Still, the fact is, he might wake up soon, or not at all."

Pepper sighed. That sounded a lot more like what she had expected.

Rhodey put an arm around her shoulders and said, "We'll see him anyway."

They followed Doctor Brown through the corridors to the ICU. Pepper felt like she was sleepwalking. She couldn't believe that this was really happening. Her mind was still blank. She had already given up on hope, almost come to terms with the cold reality, and now they were telling her that it had been premature - or then again, maybe not, since he might still be gone, even though he was technically alive. The uncertainty was simply too much to handle, so she ignored the glimmer of hope, and stayed numb.

It was easy to stunt all hopes when they reached his room. For someone who had supposedly escaped certain death, he didn't look very alive. There were tubes taking blood both in and out of him, into his arm, and out of his left side, which was entirely covered in bandages. The amount of medical machinery he had on him made her feel even more strongly that they were just grasping at straws, trying to force his body to go on living, even though it was completely ridiculous to think that he could ever be back to normal again.

Pepper took Tony's uninjured right hand in hers. It felt warm. Alive. But wasn't that just an illusion, created by the heated fluids they had pumped into him?

"He's actually looking a lot better," Rhodey said. It sounded like a bad joke, but his tone and expression made it clear that it wasn't. He still had hope. Maybe she could allow herself some, too.

He brought her a chair, and sat down in one himself.

Back to waiting, then.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Cold.

Cold?

No, not cold.

Warm and comfortable. Nice.

He wasn't supposed to be feeling this good. He was supposed to be the Invincible Iron Icicle by now. Had Jarvis reversed the process for some reason?

He cleared his throat, expecting his chest to explode in pain, but there was nothing more than a slight ache.

"Jarvis?"

"Right here, sir."

"For God's sake, Tony! You come literally back from the dead, and the first person you call out for is your AI?"

That was Rhodey's voice. Weird.

Tony opened his eyes, and found himself staring at Rhodey's face, complete with a goofy grin, the sort he'd have when Tony tricked him into drinking more than he intended to.

Next to Rhodey, there was Pepper, but her expression was the exact opposite of Rhodey's. She was crying openly, and they didn't look like happy tears, although not like sad tears, either - he didn't know what they were, but yeah, she definitely didn't look happy.

Jarvis's voice came from a laptop that was set on a table next to his bed - his hospital bed, in his hospital room, by the look of things.

It took a while before Tony began to realize what this had to mean.

Holy shit.

He was alive. He had made it.

"I was dead."

"Damn right you were," Rhodey answered. "Scared us to death, too."

"Wow."

"Seems you're so totally hyperactive that you can't even stay dead for long. That's the only way to explain how you keep pulling stunts like this time and again."

"Cool. This is very cool. You get that, eh? It was really, very cool."

Without any warning, Pepper stepped closer and slapped him hard on the face.

"Ow! Okay, it was bad, but I still didn't deserve that."

"Do you have any idea what you've put us through?" Pepper shouted at him. Oddly enough, even though she was raging mad, she was also still crying. "Yes, you were dead. Really dead, as in, no breathing, no heartbeat, the whole thing, for over an hour! You're incredibly lucky to be alive. You can't just joke about it like it was nothing! Not to mention that you kept us waiting for you to wake up for two days, certain that you'd ended up a... a vegetable! Don't expect for one minute that you're going to get away with it just like that! One more bad pun on the subject and that's it, I'll quit."

"Hey, it's not like I wanted to die. And it was Jarvis's idea anyway, you should blame him."

"The whole hypothermia thing was Jarvis's idea?" Rhodey asked.

"Yeah. He killed me and saved my life. Thanks, Jarvis, by the way."

"The pleasure was all mine, sir."

"Amazing, that AI, isn't he?" Tony said. "He was written by this really smart guy called Stark. You might know him."

"Oh, that Tony Stark? I heard a rumor that he died in the Arctic..."

"James Rhodes, you stop encouraging him right now! I'm not done yet!" Pepper intervened.

"Miss Potts, please. He mustn't be stressed, didn't I make that clear enough?" a voice unfamiliar to Tony joined the conversation. He could just see the speaker past Pepper and Rhodey, a mousy-haired woman, not entirely bad-looking. Around a seven, on a scale from one to ten. She was probably his doctor, judging from her clothing and what she was saying.

"He's causing me a lot more stress than I could ever cause him," Pepper muttered sulkily.

"Don't worry, doc. This is the very opposite of stressful. Nothing like a little family quarrel to make me feel at home."

"I'm the one who gets to decide about that," the doctor said, and pushed Rhodey and Pepper aside to check on Tony.

"Doctor Brown, pleased to meet you." She shook his hand quickly, took his vitals, and nodded, seemingly content. "I'll need you to go through a full neurological exam to see if there are any sequelae from what happened, but if you're feeling all right, that can wait a little longer."

"I'm feeling perfectly fine." He wasn't even exaggerating a lot. He did feel pretty tired and weak, and his shoulder and chest were weird and achy, but all in all, not bad. Not bad at all.

"I promise you that'll change once the pain medication starts wearing off. Nevertheless, I'll leave you to deal with your family issues now. I'll be back later," she said, and actually walked out of the room. No pointless fussing, no requests to run more tests asap. He was already starting to like her.

"So, anyone care to give me any details? Like, who, what, where and when?" Tony asked.

"Well, I suited up and went after you, of course. It took me some time to find you, since the GPS coordinates were off, but I got there eventually, picked you up and carried you to Fairbanks, which is where we are at the moment. The local docs performed a medical miracle and brought you back," Rhodey explained.

"In other words, sir, everything went almost exactly according to plan. If you're interested in the medical details: the high-energy impact broke several bones in your shoulder and upper chest, which in turn cut an artery and pierced your lung. Healing will take quite a while," Jarvis said.

"We've been here for two days now. So far, we haven't told anything to anyone. The press is in an uproar, and I've had like a hundred phone calls from S.H.I.E.L.D. representatives and board members," Pepper added. "Of course, I haven't answered a single one of them."

"Miss Potts, your job description doesn't say that you get the day off if your boss dies."

"Tony! What did I just say about those jokes?" Pepper complained, and it wasn't a carefree witty remark, it was way too serious.

"That wasn't a pun, so, no quitting allowed."

"All right, I'm extending the list to include gags, wisecracks, quips, one-liners, pranks, tricks and every other synonym you can find under 'joke' in a thesaurus."

"What does that leave me? Oh, I should've just stayed dead!" Tony said tragically, the back of his good hand against his forehead. "That wasn't a joke, by the way. It was serious. Dead serious."

That finally did it. Tony could see Pepper's face twitch as she tried to fight it, but it was in vain. She broke out in a grin, chuckled, and shook her head at him. "You're hopeless! And don't think for a moment that I'm not glad to have you back. I really am."

Pepper sat down on Tony's bed and grabbed him in a hug.

"Rhodey, aren't you going to join in?" Tony asked. "I'd ask you too, Jarvis, but you know how it is."

"I'm not offended, sir."

"Aw, Tony..." Rhodey shook his head.

"Come on, I know you want to."

"Oh, what the hell. All right," Rhodey said. He sat down on the bed next to Pepper, and put one arm around each of them.

"There, see? Now, this is the sort of welcome I was expecting," Tony declared, and wrapped his good arm around his friends, pulling them even closer.

Yeah, it was horribly soppy, but hey, he had just come back from the dead. Some soppiness was definitely in order.

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**Author's Endnote: **Thank you for reading, hope it was entertaining in all its ridiculous angstiness. If you liked, please review, it'll make my day. :)


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